


Strange Attraction

by SouloftheRose



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: BtVS Season 4, F/M, Something Blue, Spuffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:07:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29388870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SouloftheRose/pseuds/SouloftheRose
Summary: In a slight twist to the events of Something Blue: Buffy takes Spike out for engagement pictures while Giles sleeps off his scotch. What happens when her mother gets the call to pick up her "Engagement Package"?Will Buffy admit her lingering feelings?Can Spike deal with the humiliation?Or will Giles get fed up & finally stake someone?
Relationships: Spike/Buffy Summers
Kudos: 21





	Strange Attraction

**Revello Drive, Monday 8:35 a.m.**

Joyce was lingering over her morning coffee with the Arts and Leisure section of the Sunnydale Press when the phone rang.

“Hello?” She tucked the phone into the crook of her shoulder, eyes on her article. She made a mental note to take Buffy to the new movie at The Sun. The review made _Chocolat_ sound delightful. They rarely agreed on movies but who could say no to Johnny Depp?

“Ms. Summers please.” A crisp voice inquired.

“Speaking.” She replied, idly flipping to the next page.

“Good day, Ma’am. This is Elliot from 24 Hour Photo calling to let you know your order is ready for pick up.”

Her brow furrowed quizzically and she looked up from her paper for the first time.

“There must be some mistake. I didn’t order any pictures.”

“I have you down for the...” She could hear the clerk shuffling paperwork on the other end. “…here it is; the Deluxe Engagement Package including 2 4x6 sheets, 18 wallets and a premium quality leather bound studio book with 24 hand-selected 5x7s.” 

“ _What_ engagement?” Joyce was growing impatient with this officious little man and his annoying manner.

“Oh dear.” Elliot fretted. “Is it possible I have the wrong number? This _is_ the Summers residence at 555-7174?”

“It is.” Joyce replied curtly. “But no one in this house is _engaged_ I can assure you.”

“I’m not certain what to tell you, Ma’am. I have an order dated 2 weeks ago under the name of Summers at _this_ phone number. Is it possible someone else could have placed it?”

“Well I can’t think of who…” The clock on the wall caught her eye and she nearly swore. So much for her leisurely morning. “Look, I don’t have time to discuss this now. I have to get to work and I have no intention of paying for-“

“Oh, they’re already paid for, Ma’am.” He interrupted smoothly. “All taken care of at the time of the order.”

This was becoming more of a mystery by the minute - one she didn’t have time to unravel.

“Fine then.” She replied tersely. “Put them aside and I’ll come by this evening.”

“Certainly, Ma’am. And thank _you_ for choosing 24 Hour Photo for all your photography needs.”

Joyce stared at the phone for a full minute before snapping back to the time and need for haste.

She shook her head. 

What an _odd_ morning she was having.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**6:37 p.m.**

Joyce stalked into the house with a leather photo album in one hand and a several loose prints in the other. All contained the same pair of giddily smiling blondes with matching looks of rapture. She was not amused. 

“ _Buffy Anne Summers_ get down here this _instant_.”

_Uh oh._

Buffy appeared at the top of the stairs immediately. She was in serious trouble when Mom used her full name. What now? Wasn’t it enough that she averted an Apocalypse this week? She braced herself and trudged down the stairs. Somehow the Vahrall demons seemed easier to contend with than a pissed-off Mom. She was definitely starting to regret coming home for dinner. 

“Would you mind explaining this to me?” Her mother asked with a decided edge to her voice.

The color drained from her face at the sight of the 8x10 glossy in her mother’s hand. It featured her and Spike looking like an ad for the Diamond Council, all dreamy-eyed and brimming with young love. 

_Oh God._

She’d _completely_ forgotten about the photos. Somehow she’d managed to push the memory of that night and all its insanity to the furthest reaches of her mind. But here it was staring her in the face again.  
  
“Wh-where did you get that?”

“You know I got the strangest call from 24 Hour Photo this morning …” Joyce began, walking into the living room to set down her bag. 

_Oh no_.

“It seems there was an order ready for a ‘Ms. Summers’. Something about the Deluxe Engagement Package?” She raised an eyebrow at her wayward child. “Is there something you want to tell me, Buffy?”

She placed the photos on the coffee table facing her daughter and sat down on the couch, arms crossed expectantly. The album was bound in handsome black leather embroidered with flowering red roses across the lower front cover. Above the roses was a photo-sized cutout with another ridiculous picture of the two of them cheek to cheek and beaming. Just below it was an oval silver plate with “ _Our Engagement_ ” engraved in elegant cursive script with the date. 

_This cannot be happening._

Buffy stared open-mouthed at the irrefutable visual proof of her spell-induced, entirely psychotic, totally impossible love for her former ( _current?_ ) enemy. There was no denying the look of adoration on his face or the unadulterated happiness on her own. It gave her the strangest sensation of vertigo to look at them. How could that be _her_? With _Spike_ of all people! And how on earth was she going to explain this to Mom?! Buffy sank down into the chair in front of the coffee table.

“Well…” She began weakly. “So… see… what _happened_ was…” 

“Are you dating another vampire, Buffy?” Joyce interrupted, cutting to the chase.

“Dating _Spike_?” She let out a small chuckle. “Really, really not.”

“Well I don’t like the idea, but he’s certainly better than that Angel.”

_Whoa. “That” Angel?_

“He obviously cares for you, and he seems to be loyal and supportive.” She continued, thinking back to the night she met him planning to save the world with her daughter. “It might not be a bad idea to have a vampire looking out for you considering your line of work… And at least he has the decency to introduce himself to me properly instead of skulking around behind my back with you.” She leaned forward and took Buffy’s hands gently across the table. “But Honey, _marriage_? That’s an awfully big step and you’re both so young…or _you_ are at least. Can’t you just wait a little while? What’s wrong with dating?”

“Mom, _Mom_ , hold on.” Buffy shook their clasped hands for emphasis. “We’re not engaged.”

“You’re not? What about these?” She sat back with a wave at the pile of incriminating photos. Buffy shook her head and huffed out a sigh.

“It’s hard to explain because _how whacky is my life_? But it was just a spell. Willow did it by accident a few weeks ago. We thought we were for like _half_ a second. It was a huge mistake but it’s over and we’re not dating and we’re definitely _not_ engaged.”

Joyce sighed.

“Sometimes I think I’ll never get used to this, Buffy.”

“Yeah,” she snorted. “You and me both.”

Joyce studied her face carefully, eyes full of concern.

“But you’re all right now?”

“I’m fine. I _swear_.”

Joyce thought she saw a glimmer of something behind her daughter’s steadfast smile.

“And Spike?” She pressed gently. “How did he take it? He must have been heartbroken.”

“ _Ha_.” Buffy laughed bitterly. “Hardly. He couldn’t wait to get away from me.” She remembered his look of revulsion when the spell broke mid-kiss. “Now he’s back to his usual pain-in-the-ass self.”

Joyce looked doubtful.

“Mom, really I _promise_. Everything’s fine.”

“If you’re sure.”

Buffy patted her mother’s hand.

“I’m more than sure.”

“Well alright then. What should we do with all this?”

Buffy grimaced at the glaring proof of her biggest mistake ever.

“I’ll take care of it. Probably burn it all in the fireplace.” Her eyes lit up. “Ooh! There could be marshmallows involved.” She grinned.

Joyce returned her smile.

“If you get to the marshmallows let me know. I’ll make s’mores.”

“Now you’re talkin’.”

Joyce rose from the couch and turned toward the kitchen.

“In the meantime I’m going to make us some dinner. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

“Sounds great.” Buffy answered absentmindedly, attention caught by Spike’s brilliant smile. 

She picked up the 8x10, studying it. They stood facing each other with hands clasped, apparently standing in a beautiful grove of trees dappled with sunlight. How pleased she’d been to make her dreams of an outdoor photo in the sun come true – even if it was only a studio backdrop. She shuffled through the other photos, a few sheets of 4x6 in the same pose, some wallet-sized (God, had she really thought her Mom and Giles would want one?) and finally, saving the worst for last: the album.

It was filled with pages and pages of the two of them; laughing, kissing and mugging for the camera like a couple of idiots. Her eyes widened in horror when she came to the costume changes. She’d forgotten _all_ about that. But there was Sheriff Spike and the Saloon Girl and Flapper Buffy with her Gangster fella, brandishing a plastic Tommy gun with his patented bad boy smirk. She was _never_ going to live it down. _Why_ did she insist on photos?! These needed to be shoved in a drawer until she could give them the cremation they deserved. This was going to require lighter fluid – like a gallon of it. And maybe a forgetting spell…She thrust the loose photos into the album and flipped it over so she didn’t have to look at their dumb, grinning faces anymore. 

_Time to bury the evidence._

Buffy marched upstairs clutching the album to her chest. Shoving her door open she dumped it all on her bed, planning on shelving them until a proper burning could be arranged. Thank God no one saw them but Mom. Imagine if they’d called _Spike_ instead! There weren’t enough cookies in the world to silence that secret. He’d mock her ‘til Doomsday. Not to mention how much this would _not_ go over with Riley. They’d barely recovered from the revelation of their secret identities this week and he already had his suspicions about Spike thanks to Willow’s stupid spell and her own big mouth. She covered the whole mess up with a barely plausible lie but no _way_ was that going to hold up against these. Just look at ‘em! Here she was grinning her ass off with some rockstar-looking guy and-

_Wait. Rockstar?_

She must be addled from the shock because no way would she ever call Spike handsome.

_Did I say handsome?_

He was just too old ( _younger than Angel_ ) and too ( _dangerous_ ) icky to be handsome. He was a bad boy and everyone knew that bad boys were overrated. Especially lame ones with troubled pasts and black clothes and crazy hair and _never mind_! Why was she thinking about him anyway? It was the stupid pictures and having him right there in her _face_ grinning like the world’s most mischievous Romeo, looking like life began and ended with her.

_It was just a spell! Just a SPELL._

Dammit! This was so unfair. Just when she was beginning to get over this ( _him_ ) and forget what a disaster that night was… and how it felt to be kissed like the world was on fire. And touched like he couldn’t get enough of her and never would. And how confusing it was to wake up from that and know that none of it was real and that _Spike_ \- not Angel, the bona fide love of her life or Riley, her brand new sweetie with boatloads of potential - was the one to give it to her. It was all so messed up and strange and just _wrong_. It made her want to cry which was very un-Slayerlike and totally stupid and she didn’t want to think about _why._ She wasn’t about to give in to these dumb, irrational feelings. She just needed to get rid of those stupid pictures! 

Setting her chin firmly she gathered up the loose sheets of photos and dumped them in her bedroom trash. Grabbing the small green lighter by the candle on her nightstand she bent down and set the edges on fire. She opened the window for ventilation and took a deep breath of the fresh evening air. 

_I don’t know why this is bothering me so much. I should be glad they’re gone. Less evidence of that stupid night._

But watching the flames eat away at their smiling faces made her feel anxious and bad like she was betraying something. 

_Or someone…_

She pushed the thought away and turned from the small fire to stare out her window. When she turned back there would be nothing left but ashes and soot. 

_Good._

That was good. Right? And the photo album would be next. She would just go downstairs and put it in the fireplace and she and Mom would roast marshmallows over it just like they said. Buffy looked back at the bed, the album was laying open where she dumped it. Without thinking she moved toward it, curling up on her bed and bringing it to her lap. They looked so sincerely happy and so terribly in love. She found herself envious of them - the couple in the pictures. They were so sure of each other, ready to go all the way to forever. Something she longed for but never had, not for real.

She flipped through the pages slowly, and got hung up on a close up shot. Spike was holding her tight and she was smiling up at him with her arms around his neck. His eyes were just _shining_ , overflowing with love for her. _My girl_ he called her. He took so much pride in having won her, in being the one by her side. How strange that her oldest enemy would be the one to love her the most. And how could a spell just manufacture that from _nothing_? Hadn’t she read somewhere that there had to be something for the magick to cling to? She traced the outline of his smiling face with her fingertips. 

“ _Buffy, dinner!”_

Her mother’s call broke her daydreaming. This line of thought was leading her nowhere. How could it? Better to follow through with shelve now/burn later. 

_Excellent plan. Sticking with that._

She closed the album firmly on Spike’s loving eyes and all the uncomfortable feelings that stirred in her. Gathering it up she went to her little blue desk. She’d just shove it in the bottom drawer with all the other things she never looked at. Buffy kneeled down to pull it open when a metallic gleam caught her eye in the depths. She reached in to fish it out and a clunky silver ring in the shape of a grinning skull came up in her hand.

_Spike’s ring._

She sat down heavily on the floor. Another thing she’d forgotten about. It was all he had on him when he proposed but she’d accepted it like it was hand delivered in a little blue box from Tiffany’s. In the insanity of the evening she’d forgotten about it until she got back to her room. The last thing she wanted was yet _another_ awkward scene with Spike so she just tucked it away and let that memory fade out with all the others. It seemed wrong somehow to just throw it away…

_“Buffy? Did you hear me? Dinner…”_

“Coming, Mom.”

She idly rubbed the grinning face with her thumb. Some things were better out of sight and out of mind. At least until you could find a way to bury them completely. She placed the ring carefully back in the drawer and with one last look at the blissful couple on the cover, she added the photo album too. Buffy closed the drawer gently on a night she was working hard to forget and went downstairs to join her mother for dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**2 Weeks Earlier…**

Buffy scampered into Giles’ apartment with a happy grin. She had the best idea _ever_! A few streets over from the Bridal Shop she found an all-night photo place. They had a photographer on staff until 10 (she would think about the demonic clientele that implied later) and if Spike would agree ( _oh please agree!)_ they could commemorate the _actual day_ of their engagement! It was _so_ romantic and they would get to scout a potential wedding photographer at the same time. Was she brilliant or was she _brilliant_? All she’d ever dreamed of was coming true; the spontaneous romantic proposal, the big wedding, the perfect guy. 

It seemed like so long ago that she fantasized about marrying Angel. What a silly school-girl daydream that was compared to the real thing. Spike was her _soulmate_. Her body didn’t feel big enough to contain her enormous feelings, all that passion, adoration and desire. It was almost overwhelming. The only thing that made it better was seeing it all reflected back to her in her fiancé’s eyes. She saw it now in the hungry look he gave her from across the room, as if she’d been gone for days and not a mere half hour.

“There you are, Love. I _missed_ you.” 

He gave her an adorable pout she couldn’t resist. She clambered into his lap to lay a kiss on his plump lower lip.

“Me too.” She hummed. “But I have the _best_ surprise.”

She sat up to dig into her bag, pulling out a glossy pamphlet emblazoned with the 24 Hour Photo logo. She snuggled back into Spike’s arms and unfolded it before him.

“What’s this then?” He smiled indulgently.

“Well, I was just passing by, they’re near the magic shop on Main, and I peeked in. See how reasonable their packages are?” She pointed out on the brochure. “They were _so_ nice and they said they could fit us in tonight and everything.”

“Pictures?” He looked puzzled. “Tonight? What for?” 

“’Cause it’s our special day! I wanna commemorate it.” She gave him her best hopeful kitten look. “It’s not every day I get a proposal from the man of my dreams.” She nuzzled his cheek. “Please, Spike?”

He was touched that she’d want to do something so sentimental actually - and he’d be a fool to think he could resist that look of hers. He laughed and shook his head.

“If it makes my girl happy how can I say no?”

Buffy squealed with delight and covered him with kisses, pamphlet dropping forgotten from her hand. Spike crushed her to him and returned her kisses with gusto. With Giles in the depths of a scotch coma there was no one to call a time-out. The playful kissing progressed into a full-on make out session within minutes. Spike’s hands roamed over her body and Buffy moaned into his mouth, arching into his cool touch. If that couch weren’t already occupied she’d drag him down to it right now. Her hot little hands slipped under his shirt and he shivered when they skated over his sensitive stomach.

“God, Buffy…” He gasped. “What you do to me.”

Giles snorted loudly and rolled over in his sleep, muttering. They froze. 

_Busted!_

“Oops.” Buffy covered her mouth stifling a giggle. They laughed quietly together for a moment. “We better get going before we get into _real_ trouble.” She gave him a naughty smile.

“Minx.” He growled. “I’ll show _you_ some real trouble.” 

He pulled her close to nibble at a delicate earlobe.

“Stop it.” She giggled, waving him off. “We’ll never leave.”

Spike reluctantly allowed her to get off his lap and pull him to his feet.

“Should we wake the poor sod and take him with us?” Spike pointed his chin at the Watcher’s sleeping form.

“Nah.” She shook her head. “Let him sleep it off - he’ll be out for hours. We’ll be back before he even knows we’re gone.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy dragged him out the door by the hand and led him down to Main Street, laughing and chattering the whole way. She told him all about the wedding she wanted and made him stop in front of the bridal shop for a look at her “perfect dress.” He was enchanted, in all the years he’d known the Slayer he never realized what an adorable girl she was. It filled him with an unexpected tenderness. He wanted to treat her right; no way his girl or her sweet mum were paying for a solitary thing from now on. He’d be the man of the house soon, it was only right that he take care of them. A brief stop at one of his secret stashes on the way left him flush and ready to buy her the world. If the dress shop had been open he’d have bought her dream dress on the spot. 

At 24 Hour Photo Spike bought the deluxe package - just to make her squeal again, which she did obligingly. Then added the silly little cake topper she swore looked like the two of them. He loved making her happy, and it seemed so easy to do today. She was absolutely beaming and he found himself taken in by her infectious enthusiasm. He even allowed her to talk him into dress-up. The highlight of the evening as it turned out since it afforded him a glimpse of her in her lacy teal bra and panty set. While they changed in the prop room she teased him mercilessly with little reveals here and there. He watched her with hungry wolf-eyes but she fought him off with playful slaps and promises of “ _later”_ whenever he tried to touch.

It was the happiest night he could ever remember. How on earth had he managed to stay away from her? And _why_ did he wait so long to ask? It seemed impossible that he had ever loved anyone else. Drusilla was a shadow now, their time together dust and ashes compared to this bright joy. What a thing it was to be able to _please_ someone so, and to be pleased by them in turn. He couldn’t remember having that before now.

Towards the end of the session the photographer posed them facing each other. Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck as she beamed radiant love at him. Spike felt a happiness so acute he thought he might dust from it, as if the sun had suddenly taken residence inside his chest. He was quite certain that proposing to her was the smartest thing he’d ever done. If this was just the engagement what would the _wedding_ be? 

He was so very glad now to have a photo to capture this moment. 

He never wanted to forget it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Giles’ Apartment**

**Monday 7:00 pm**

Spike gathered his things under Rupert’s watchful eye. He hadn’t left much here but still, he was damn fond of that lighter. It always seemed to get lost somewhere inconvenient too. He thought the old man was going to stake him on sight and judging by the look on his face he was still considering it. Seems he hadn’t yet forgiven him for laying hands on his little princess. Not like it was his fault! And not like she didn’t give as good as she got either. Had they been without chaperon the night coulda gone a whole different way. Spike smirked to himself at the thought. 

_There’s a sweet peach I wouldn’t mind a taste of._

However outwardly cool she might seem Buffy wasn’t quite the ice queen she pretended to be. She was hot when it counted. Her kisses _burned_. They still haunted his dreams, not that he would admit that to anyone. He could still taste her strawberry lip gloss and feel her hands burning his skin. That was enough to make him hard anymore, and hungry to possess her in a way that discomfited him. Wasn’t supposed to _want_ the Slayer. Not like that. Drink her? Yes. Fuck her? Maybe. But make her _his_? 

He pushed the thought away. Now was not the time. He needed to get his blasted lighter and get out of here before old Rupes got testy and decided to stake him after all. It was this bloody place that set him to thinkin’ anyway. It was the site of all his worst humiliations of late: tied to chairs, chained to bathtubs, hand fed and kept like a sodding house pet. That made him pick up his pace, Spike wasn’t anxious to relive those memories. He peered under tables and ducked down to look beneath the couch. Nothing but crumbs and dust bunnies.

“Bloody _hell_.” He cursed quietly.

Hands and knees it was. He shouldn’t be surprised after everything else he’d suffered here. At floor level he began to hunt in earnest, reaching behind bookshelves and underneath furniture. In back of the old leather club chair his hand grazed something slick and papery. Curiosity made him pull it out, amusing thoughts of stumbling on a secret stash of Watcher porn. Ah well, nothing more than an old advert carelessly dropped. Rupert’s virtue remained intact. Spike smirked to himself and turned it over in his hands. What _would_ the old boy be interested in, eh? Moldy books? Discount teas? Librarian Quarterly? He paled visibly when he recognized the logo. 

_The bloody photo shop_. _Damn it all._

He’d managed to forget that, let it fade into the general chaos of the evening. Pushed it all right out of his head, but here it was starin’ him in the face again. Little witch’d done him _good_ ; had him playin’ the prince and proposin’ on bended knee. Scampering after the Slayer like a lost puppy and givin’ in to her every little whim. Takin’ pictures and playing dress-up. _Christ_. If anyone that mattered knew they’d laugh him out of town. 

But it was _her_ laugh he remembered now. Rang in his mind clear and sweet, ushering in a flood of unwanted memories. Her pretty face flushed from his kisses, the feel of her warm and pliant in his arms, her unchecked girlish delight in him. Just for one night he was as happy and madly in love as he had ever been. Oh how he had loved her. And how Buffy had _loathed_ him when she woke from it. Her look of disgust cut him to the bone. 

_Beneath me._

He closed his eyes on the memory, willing it away. Silencing that voice he knew too well.

“Are you done yet, Spike?” Giles interrupted testily. “I would like to get to bed sometime before dawn.”

“Give us a minute, Watcher.”

Something about the tone in Spike’s voice silenced the retort on the tip of his tongue and Giles retreated to the kitchen, leaving him in peace. 

Suddenly Spike didn’t want to be here anymore. Didn’t want to see the places they’d kissed and cuddled, the places he’d laid his heart open and been a fool. Even if it was just a spell, even if it was against his will. It burned him with shame and cut him with loss. The loss of something he didn’t _want_ to want. He shoved the offending pamphlet into the pocket of his jeans. He didn’t want anyone else getting curious and following that lead. It seemed unlikely but Lord knows they didn’t need any _more_ reasons to mock him.

His eyes watered but he would _not_ cry. Not here. Not over _her_. Time to forget this, erase it from his head. If not a spell than a bottle of Jack or 3 might do. Fuck the lighter and whatever else he may have missed. Let Rupert keep it and call it rent. 

He had some serious drinking to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Giles returned to shoo the vampire out for the night he was surprised to find him gone. He’d grown so accustomed to Spike’s loud mouth swagger he’d forgotten he could be as silent as the grave he should by rights occupy. He went to the door but there was no trace of him in the courtyard. He’d disappeared, and without taking his things.

_Strange that._

You’d think he’d want his lighter if nothing else. He never seemed to be without it and judging by the battered casing he’d had it for half a century or more. The engraving was worn to illegibility. Giles found it halfway beneath the tub earlier, must’ve been there for days. He’d left a number of small things behind and Giles wasn’t at all pleased. He didn’t care to have any reminders of their brief stint as “roommates”. He was thoroughly enjoying the luxury of a bath sans vampire not to mention the lack of bloodstains in the kitchen. He simply wanted to put the whole debacle behind him and return to his life of pleasant solitude. Ah well, he’d gather it up and pass the lot on to Xander. Spike was his problem now, thank God.

Giles fingered the cool surface of the metal object in his hands, contemplating its mysteries. Could it be an original Zippo, something from the 1930’s? It was hard to imagine Spike taking the time to maintain such a small, delicate thing for so many years. But Spike often surprised him; his devotion to Drusilla, his constant adaptation, his apparent sentimentality. And more recently his quite demonstrable ability to love. The way he’d cared for Buffy and even himself – treating him as her father, looking after him while he was incapacitated and blind. Later he’d been told how Spike fought to protect her from a small hoard of encroaching demons - even though he had no ability to hurt them without great pain to himself. Could a spell truly be responsible for all of that? From nothing could _love_ be created and then so easily snuffed out? And from a demon a devoted husband made? 

Giles shook his head - a foolish train of thought to indulge in. Who knew what unfathomable motives propelled a creature such as Spike? Or what might move an undead heart…

He closed the door on the quiet night with a frown, pondering the mysteries of vampires.

**_“Strange attraction spreads its wings_ ** **_  
_** **_Varies but the smallest things_ ** **_  
_** **_You never know how anything will change_ ** **_  
_** **_Strange attraction spreads its wings_ ** ****_  
_**_And alters but the smallest things_ ** **_  
__And you never know, and you never know…”_**

**_~ The Cure_ **

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a prompt from the lovely Sidewalksecrets on Tumblr, who wanted to see: "Buffy dragging Spike to get pictures and somehow escaping the gang for a bit. I just would love to see Joyce asking Buffy about it and Buffy having to somehow explain it. I also see her confiscating the pictures from her mother, claiming she is going to burn them, but secretly putting them in the drawer where she keeps Spike's skull ring."
> 
> Sequel in the works...


End file.
